OMG?! It's been so long? I hope everyone is doing well! Anyways, uhh here's a peace offering?

Chapter Five

I was in a shitty mood and little Johnny here was certainly not helping things, much less winning himself any favors.

The pathetic whines were grating on my senses and if I wasn't careful a headache would creep up on me. It had been two weeks since I'd had any symptoms and since I'd seen…

I take a deep breath and try to get my head out of my ass where it had apparently been buried for the last fourteen days.

I didn't need thoughts of her messing with me, least of all here and I for fucking sure did not need to figure out why the hell I was angry when I was the one who told her to stay away. No- why I wanted her to stay away.

She was nothing and no one to me and yet for all…fuck.

"Please, Mr. Belikov!" The man's cries pull me back to the task at hand and I'm thankful for the reminder of what I'm supposed to do, of what I am.

"Please, what?" I ask him earnestly because he knew the terms of our agreement and he chose to break them. He had no right begging now.

''I have a family!'' The pathetic rat squeals in a last ditch attempt to save his own skin.

I pause, let him see the confusion on my face because, why the fuck is that always thrown in my face? Did they not consider their families when trying to fuck me over?

The man's eyes widen hopefully, perhaps taking my expression and pause as reconsideration? My frown deepens before I'm in action again.

This was absurd. It was not like I would magically give a fuck because they had a family. I had a family too, and where are they now?

"Family, huh?" I asked with a smirk, enjoying the widening of the rat's eyes even further as he realizes his mistake. Good. At least he will die regretful.

Hours later I sit in my office, looking at the monitors streaming from every room in my club while I sip on my fourth glass of whisky.

My eyes shift from one screen to another, my eyes acknowledging what I'm seeing- a bunch of old, rich, white men either gambling their lives away or screwing some pretty, young thing before they go home to their wives- but my brain isn't processing any of that.

Do you think I'm pretty?

Christ.

The thought rises unbidden to my memory and I can't shake it. I can't shake her.

I'm not drunk and I feel fine, which means I have no excuse. It's all on me and my fucked up mind.

But it's Tuesday. God, that undeniably messed up part of my brain whispers the thought I've been pushing down all day, all week if I'm finally being honest to myself.

Nothing has happened today. There have been no charming little girls to get in my way and fuck everything up.

It's not fair- blaming Rose for something she has no idea about, like the earth shifting beneath me, the burning in my veins every time her hair sways, the hope she breathes into me with every encounter and then takes away when she leaves.

None of this is fair, but that's life isn't it?

I'm so up in my head that it takes me a second to realize that I'm out of my chair, phone and wallet already in my pocket as I reach for my jacket.

By the time I come to my senses I'm already at the door, fingers already twisting the knob.

I freeze, thinking about what this means, what will happen if I cross this line.

It takes me a moment longer than I'm comfortable with because it moves from beyond spur of the moment to premeditated and then I will truly have no one to blame. But strangely, that doesn't seem to stop me.

I take a deep breath and do it any way.

It's barely been twenty minutes and I'm standing behind the little café Rose brought me to all those days ago.

There's nothing but garbage, cigarette filters and bottles strewn about in the little alley way. I should be more careful than this, being trapped in a small space with a dead end and no protective barriers.

Except I'm not.

I don't feel like a target right now. I'm feeling too reckless to be concerned about trivial things like my life.

Instead I find my thoughts drifting to her and whether or not she comes out here alone. If she has any sense of awareness for her own safety.

The notion twists something in my chest and I'm getting angry again. She sought me out, held a gun to my head and had the audacity to be…

She's done something to me. Something that's making me too distracted, that's making me do crazy things like wait for her behind a coffee shop in a dead-end alley.

I'm not stupid but that, apparently does not stop me from doing stupid things. Dangerous, fucking stupid-

The backdoor creaks and all curses, all thoughts disappear as I drink in the sight of tumbled dark hair and smooth, tanned skin.

Rose.

I stand there just gaping at her for what feels like an eternity before she finally notices me.

She doesn't startle like I expect and there's no sign of surprise on her supple features and that makes the anger come rushing back.

I stalk up to her, my hands clenching into fists as I approach and she just…smiles.

She fucking smiles and I lose the ability to think, my steps faltering. What is this?

What am I doing here?

I knew what I was doing when I left my office, logically I knew, but…

Now that I'm here- with her- it feels different. Like my actions and the inevitable consequences are just now dawning on me.

Shit.

I don't want to think about it. I can't.

"Hi."

"Uh, hi." I reply dumbly. My hands were hanging limply at my sides and suddenly I had no idea what to do with the big, stupid things.

My fingers twitched and I thought I might do another stupid thing, like cradle her face in my palm, swipe my thumb against her soft bottom lip, grab her hair.

"What are you- how are you here?"

There was something almost…shy in her voice that made things in my stomach move.

"You stayed away." The accusation tumbles out before I could stop it.

Fuck. I'm not even drunk.

"You told me to." She replies crisply.

Right. Because you listen so well.

Something about that- her listening to me- sends a rush to my head.

"I don't think you're pretty." The words slipped out before I even knew I was going to speak. I feel like an inexperienced idiot. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Rose's face fell and her smile dimmed, which made me feel like even more of an ass.

I hurried to explain before she pulled a real gun on me this time. "I think…You had asked. Last time." I stated, like a bloody moron. "I think you are krasаvitsa, Roza."

I watched as a red tint crawled over cheeks before she asked softly, "What does that mean?"

I cleared my throat before responding just as softly. "Beautiful." I looked into her warm gaze before I lost the nerve. "You are…so beautiful."

Her throat dipped as she swallowed and the smile returned to her lips, charged with a glow to rival the sun.

This moment…it felt like something cosmic was shifting. Like I had just set something in motion that would change…everything.

Сукин сын. (Son of a bitch)

Rose's smile transformed into a smirk. "You're not so bad yourself, Comrade."

She had to ruin it, didn't she? It was easy to forget that she was American sometimes.

"Don't call me that." I told her, feeling my lips twitch in barely restrained amusement.

Her head tilted to the side, her hair following in a graceful sway. "Why?"

"There is nothing noble, friendly or brotherly about me. And I for fucking sure don't feel that way about you." I said simply.

And it was true, even if I did not want to admit it. My eyes closed briefly because I had just made a mistake. I was sure of it by the way Rose's eyes sparkled and her shoulders straightened, transforming her into the bold girl I had recognized.

"I didn't know you felt any type of way about me…Comrade." She was grinning now, the little devil.

I rolled my eyes at that, knowing damned well I had set myself up for it. Looking away from her, I glanced at our surroundings noticing that it would be dark soon, but the alley was still empty.

We were still alone.

"Shut up. That was not what I meant." I grumbled at her, which only made her smile widen, creating more dips in my stomach. "Stay out of trouble and do not let me see you around." I warned her.

It was a stupid thing to say because as far as I knew she had been staying out of trouble and she had left me alone. That las thought brought a scowl to my face but I shook it off.

Rose was trouble. She had been poking around in my business the last time I spoke to her and I still did not know the reason. Yes, that's it.

I'm just making sure she isn't a threat. I need to keep a close eye on her then.

I ignored the voice in the back of my mind that called me a liar.

"Take care of yourself Rose." I tell her, backing out of the alley.

She sputtered, her mouth opening and closing, no doubt at my bullshit. "That's it? You come here all mysterious and call me beautiful and now you're leaving?"

I raised an eyebrow at her, my head tilting to the side in the unspoken question of 'What more did you expect?' I was genuinely confused.

"Stop that!" She scowled at me.

"Stop what?" My brow raised higher.

"That-" she pointed. "That thing with your brow!"

"Why?"

"Because, I can't do it and it comes off like some kind of power play! I don't like it." Her bottom lip pushed out in a pout and I was momentarily distracted.

"And now that you have told me this, why would I stop now?"

She was silent for a second before her eyes narrowed and she seemed to consider my point.

"Fine," she relented and my lips quirked into a tiny smirk. "But you should ask me out."

All of the smugness was wiped off of my face by that little declaration. I didn't just hear what I think-

"On a date. You think I'm beautiful and you came all this way to tell me that. You need to ask me out." She repeated confidently.

Her hands were on either sides of her hips and her chin was tilted defiantly up at me since I was so much taller than her small frame.

My head automatically shakes out of denial because if there was ever a moment that I needed a wakeup call, this was it.

"I can't do that Rose. You know how impossible that is." I tell her gently but firmly.

She doesn't deny it but her head shakes in a denial of her own unwilling to let it go.

"Nothing is impossible, Comrade." She says softly. "One date. Ask me."

The look on her face is uncompromising. Her brown eyes were bright, almost feverishly so and if I had looked closer, over the panic creeping up my throat, I might have seen the desperation there.

"I cannot, Rose."

"Or is it that you won't?" She asks, her eyes imploring me to…what?

"It does not matter." I tell her. Suddenly furious, my accent comes out thicker, more pronounced. "Nyet. No. Stay out of trouble." I repeat my earlier warning and storm off before she can say anything more without so much as a backward glance.

I'm walking as fast as I can without seeming like I'm running and that just makes me angrier.

She doesn't know…

She doesn't know that in that moment, I was regretting every life choice, every one of my circumstances.

She doesn't know how much I would have given to ask her on a date. A safe, normal date.

I had done something so incredibly reckless and stupid just to be slapped with the harsh reality of my world.

I…shouldn't repeat it. But like this evening in my office I know.

I know that I would again.

Reaching into my pocket I do the one thing I had been resisting. I pull out my phone and call Eddie.

"Rose Hathaway. I want everything you can find and…" I hesitate, knowing that this was it. The final push.

"Put someone on her. I want every move monitored."

I tumble over the edge.

Those crazy kids! Silly Dimitri, he is such a guy *insert eyeroll*, but we love the big dork! I'm not sure but I think I may do Rose's POV really soon. I hope you guys are enjoying Dimitri's POV though!